Beetee's Games
by Annie Flickerman
Summary: Beetee's final moments in the Hunger Games which he became the victor of.


Lightning cracks overhead and a few moments later, thunder follows. I shudder and stare down at the wire in my hands. I can do anything I want to with this thin piece of metal. It's an odd talent, perhaps, but maybe it could come in handy. Already, I've used it to set traps up all around the arena and many of them have worked like a charm. But now we're down to the final three. What good is a piece of wire going to do for me when it's gonna come down to brute strength?

I sigh and stand up, placing the coils of wire into my pocket and moving away from the tree. Might as well surrender myself. Maybe they'll take mercy on me, make my suffering swift. Another expanse of lightning, another booming thunder.

"It's Volts!" a voice cries out. I tense up and stumble back against the tree, eyes wide. Where did the voice come from? No one was following me. I made sure of it.

"Where?" another voice replies.

"I - oh, never mind. I must have been seeing things. With this storm, we'll never find him," the first voice says in a resigned tone.

"You know what that means, I suppose," the person chuckles and a few moments later, there's a scream. And then silence.

I crouch down, breathing shakily. A cannon sounds. There's two of us. Only two of us left.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" the man calls out. I press back against the tree, biting my bottom lip. He's getting closer. He's probably only yards away. Another roar of thunder, though I hadn't had my eyes open to see the lightning before it.

The wire in my pocket becomes heavier suddenly. An idea pops into my mind. A few moments later and I've taken the wire out and stood up. I uncoil a few yards of it and stalk across the ground, laying the wire out between the tree I'd been beneath and the one across from it. There's no guarantee this will work but I have to try it. I place the end of the wire between my teeth and hoist myself up into the tree, sliding it between branches as I climb, higher and higher.

The other tribute is still yelling out but he hasn't seen me yet. That's good. When I reach about as far up in the tree as I dare to go, I wrap the last bit of the wire around the branch, over and over again. Another crack of thunder. I drop down from the tree, branch by branch.

"Ohh, Volts!" the voice is much closer now. He's almost reached me now. I back away from between the two trees, swallowing hard and standing a few feet away from the lain out wire.

"I'm over here!" I call out hoarsely. I clench my hands into fists, willing them to stop shaking. It doesn't work.

"Ha, ha, ha," he steps out from between a cluster of bushes, a sadistic grin on his face. He's taller than me, probably well over six feet. He has black hair and sinister green eyes which I can't see clearly due to the dark, foggy air. I remember them from training, though. The way he had looked at me...

"It's just us left," I say quietly, taking another step back. I need to lure him closer.

"You got that right. Any last words, hmm?" he says. He's drawing out a knife now and is sliding it over his thigh. Cleaning it?

"Do you?" I ask. I slap myself mentally. That's really the best comeback I could think of?

"You're a funny one," he laughs. The sound is fake, mockingly so. I swallow hard and take another step backwards. Finally, he follows the bait and begins stepping forward. I continue moving backwards until finally, finally he's standing in place. I hope he doesn't feel the wire.

He doesn't.

"I know. I'm hilarious, aren't I?" I laugh, but my laugh is real, maybe borderline hysterical.

"The Games have really done something to you, haven't they?" he chuckles, lifting his knife. "Oh, well. This will be a favor -,"

Before he can finish his sentence, the next bolt of lightning has struck down. Right in the tree. Right as I planned. The electricity travels through the wire, through the tribute. He can't even manage to cry out before he falls backward, his hair spiky. The knife has fallen from his hands.

I stay completely still for a long moment before stumbling forward uncertainly, peering at him. He's not breathing but I don't want to take any chances. I lean down and scoop up the knife, taking a few steps away.

The cannon fires.

I stay standing there as they remove the body. I don't move. I don't say a word, even as they're taking me from the arena in their flying machine. I still have the knife in my hand, though. I can't stop staring at it. And I can't get the boy's green eyes out of my mind. Maybe they weren't sinister after all. Maybe they were just determined.

Maybe he just wanted to live.


End file.
